Sad Faces
by Cemetary Kitten
Summary: Harry reflects on his romantic life with a certain degree of dry humour.


A/N I excel in soppy slash and other such deviancies. You have been warned, don't read on if you don't like my style. Also, i don't own any of the characters etc... I mean, if i owned them, why on earth would I share them with you?? Thankyou J.K. Rowling for the story you created. 

Sad Faces

"I never loved you!"  
The slender blonde was overcame by his own fury. He spat the words at the youth in front of him. They thought they were alone, unobserved, but very little escaped the notice of someone else within the magical society. The grass beside the quidditch pitch was unoccupied , whipped cold and desolate by a sharp breeze. Malfoy's words were ripped from his anger-paled lips, pausing long enough between the pair for Harry's fists to clench, before being carried to their silent observer.

Severus Snape was not unknown to the concept of 'words said in anger', having said quite a few in the state himself, and could only watch on at his student with pity and tempered disgust. As Headmaster of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft and Wizardry, he was afforded quite a few privileges, but more, it seemed, were the responsibilities. Harry Potter had caused the secretive Professor a lot of trouble, but the good he had done the wizarding community was immeasurable. Arrogant git though he was, Snape conceded, the Potter boy had done an admirable job of ridding the world of its vicious enemy, Lord Voldemort. Things had been very different after the Dark Lord's defeat, and would probably not be the same again. Such was the way of things. Death could not touch as many as it had without leaving some effect, and the Potter boy had seen more death than perhaps one his age should have to see.

Malfoy was shaking. His eyes were traitorously teary. He did not give any heed to it, and he certainly did not do anything as obviously weak as try to brush the tears away. That would be like admitting something akin to emotion, and Malfoys didn't feel emotions. Malfoys weren't weak. Harry did not say anything. There seemed, given his companion's complete irrationality, very little to say. The two seventh years faced each other silently for a while. Finally, the blonde shook his head, "Have you nothing to say for yourself?"

Hermione Granger walked in on the confrontation with a sense of foreboding. She glanced at Harry over Draco's shoulder, one eyebrow raised delicately, as if asking for permission to interupt. Harry lifted a hand to motion for her to leave but Malfoy got in first, without turning he snarled out, "Take your time, Granger. Spill your heart out. I was just leaving." And angrily, he spun on heel and left the friends together. Hermione ventured tentatively ," Is it Cho, again?"

The Gryffindor Champion and wizarding hero nodded, looking away. He wasn't happy with how difficult things had become, since the fateful day Malfoy had pinned him to the wall in Myrtle's bathroom, and, tasting of blood and sweat, had proceeded to kiss his nemesis with shocking abandon. Harry was not the only shocked by Draco's performance ; the slytherin Prince had pulled away with a look of horror on his face so comically exaggerated, both boys had started laughing. The duel that had started so quickly was ended, and something else had replaced it. Harry wasn't sure what the replacement was, however.

Apparently following the line of his own thoughts, Hermione said quietly, with a frown, "This - whatever it is the pair of you have going - is not going to remain secret much longer, Harry. And Ron is going to want you to tell him before someone else does. The rumours are becoming more and more...well, more and more correct. Especially given..."

The sentence finished, 'especially given Malfoy's jealousy issues'. Due to Harry's further increasing fame, his new status as absolute saviour of the wizarding society, and his wonderful abs and overall appearance, he had been beset by adoring females not only at school, but by witches everywhere he went. Ironically, it seemed, as it was Malfoy's lips that got him hot nowadays. Hermione was the only one who officially knew about it, as she was the only one who still visited the Restricted section of the school library, where she had found Harry and Draco getting to know one another better, framed by dusty and sinister looking books. The girl had dropped the book she'd been holding, and it had landed with an audible thump. Malfoy, shirtless, had looked up at her from beneath long eyelashes irritably. Harry, his back pressed against the stone wall, looked too flushed and dazed to notice she was there. The moment had stretched. Hermione smiled wryly as she remembered it.

Anyway, Harry's popularity with females had caused no end of trouble. Every look he received from those of the opposite gender rendered Malfoy rent with rage and jealousy. Draco Malfoy had proved himself quite as vicious as the Dark Lord. One moment, he was stealing Harry away from company and into broom cupboards, abandoned bathrooms, locked staff-rooms and other places, and the next he was glaring across the great hall, moodily hexing people who got in his way and having shouting matches with Harry, usually without rational reason and usually vicious in nature.

It was important to note, however, that the apologies were generally worth waiting for. Harry looked away from Hermione and up at the castle. He could see Snape's silhouette in the window of the Headmaster's office. Impulsively, he raised a hand and waved. The silhouette shook its head. A moment later, Harry was knocked to the ground. Blond hair brushed his cheek. His arms were pinned to the ground above his head as Malfoy adjusted his grip, leaning above his Gryffindor counterpart. Harry tried to push him off, "Malfoy, what the fuck -"

"Oh, don't even start," Returned the blonde coldly, "As if you don't enjoy it. You aren't going anywhere. You think you're so good, Mr I-Saved-The-World, yeah, well -"

Hermione cleared her throat in the background. Harry rolled his eyes, "You idiot -"

However the sentence may have ended, it was very quickly cut off. The slytherin pressed his cold lips against Harry's, stealing his breath. Hermione let out a discomforted squeek, that Draco ignored with determination, and Harry quickly forgot. Draco's idea on how to end the day seemed a lot better than following the girl back inside to discuss Ron's feelings, afterall.


End file.
